A Painful Begining
by balletismylife
Summary: Some kiddnapping happens, Harry is involved, Hermione gasps, so on, so forth. M for slightly to very mature.
1. Chapter 1

"If I hear one peep 'outa you, you're going in the dog house for the rest of the night!" The man leered at Hermione through the bars. His teeth were crooked, and his breath smelt of alcohol. The girl winced, but kept silent.

She had been kidnapped, the night after graduation from Hogwarts. There was no one for miles around, so it was a waist of energy to call for help. She could only imagine what the "dog house" was. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

_Okay, Hermione, think. _ These men would probably try to rape her, and maybe they would kill her afterwards. She was still a virgin. Hermione shuddered at the thought of a)dying a virgin, and b) not dying a virgin, but only because of being rapped. She wanted to live a long happy life. What was worse than death? _ Life without the ones' you love._ Something told her then that she would not die any time soon, but neither would she see her friends again. Maybe the men would turn her into an unwilling whore, who had to do whatever they told her to, or be tortured. Hermione forced herself to stop thinking like that. Too much time on her hands, with absolutely nothing to do.

The leering man came into the cell where Hermione lay bound. He looked over her, and liking what he saw, said "Ready for some fun, pipsqueak?" Hermione shuddered, but kept her eyes on his.

"What is the dog house?" She asked bluntly. The man hesitated, then spoke.

"It's a small room, full of men starved for love for over four years. They are our prisoners, don'tcha see, so we keep 'em in there for a good long time, until they are starved for a, _woman's_ touch." His face twisted. "By the time we give 'em a woman, they'll gladly leave us alone. 'Oft times they'll join us, just to get more."

Hermione groaned. But was the alternative any better?

"If I don't go to the 'dog house', then what will happen to me?"

The man barked a horse laugh.

"Then you get to be my personal mistress. I only get you for three days, then you go on to the next member of our little group."

"Exactly how many are there in your group?" Hermione asked, feeling sick.

"One hundred and fifty, give or take a few."

"An-and how many in the-the dog house?"

"Only thirty seven. And they usually take turns of five to ten, although some are so eager they just have at you all together like." He sounded as though he thought this would be some kind of comfort to her. The girl stared.

"Do I have a choice?"

The man narrowed his eyes, but spoke.

"Yes, you may choose. But be quick about it!"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, before saying,

"How long will I stay here?"

"As long as I like." He sneered, "And I like to squeeze as much of the juice out of you before I let you go, too. So don't be expecting to prance out like some pretty penny."

Hermione made a quick decision, which, once she thought about, she considered to be pretty lousy.

"I'll take the dog house."

Hermione remembered an old friend from school. His name had been Harry Potter. He had been very close, until the summer after 5th year. He disappeared. No one had seen him since. At the time, Hermione had cried and cried. He had been her very best friend, closer even than Ron. She had lusted over his figure, dreamed about his affections, and fantasized like only a fifteen-almost-sixteen year old could. When he had touched her, her skin had felt like it would simply burn off, and his eyes could make her do anything. Even kill herself. But he had gone, or been killed, or something. It was a mystery to all.

Now, she wondered if he had been kidnapped. Hey, it had happened to her, why not to him? What if they were in the same place, that Harry was in the dog house, where in less then an hour she would be thrown? No, it could not happen. Harry was dead, long gone. She needed to come back to the present.

The man (who said his name was Roger) brought Hermione some clothes that she was to wear in the dog house. He left, snickering.

Hermione was appalled. The so called clothes were nothing but a few leather straps, and three triangles of canvas (breast, breast, and crouch). As much as she hated it, she put on the attire. Roger had conjured up a floor length mirror for her. He told her to practice some "dance moves", by which he could only mean stripping or grinding of some kind, which she would perform on a levitated platform in front of the sex starved men.

Hermione looked her self up in the mirror. The leather straps covered nothing, and the triangles did little better. But she looked relatively hot. She had acquired a full body tan when she went to visit her crazy cousin in Bermuda, last summer, and her body had filled out in all the right places. Her hair had softened into wavy curls that spread over her shoulders in dark honey tones. She put two and two together in her head. She was damned hot. Sizzling. But if only she had realized this before graduation? She could have had a date at least to the dance. But she had had to go alone. Come to think of it, she had never been pass second base! And barely pass first.

_I'll have made a home run by tonight,_ she thought gloomily.

There was a banging on her door. It opened without further ado. Roger stared openly.

"Come, wench. Your sight is riches to my eyes. I hope to enjoy you soon. You must be one delicious morsel."

Hermione felt herself turn red, and she hurried past him out the door. As she passed him, he reached out and grabbed her butt. She jumped, and ran ahead down the hall.

"It's be the first door on the right!" Roger chuckled evilly.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey! I hope you like this story, it is my first. I didn't put a note on the first chappie because I was still learning how to use this program, tee hee! If you have any suggestions for me, please review. In fact, please review weather or not you have something to say. _

_Sorry this one's so short, more on the way!_

_Later, -Toria_

Hermione stepped out onto the platform. Below her, about ten feet down stood about thirty men, dressed in tatters, staring hungrily up at her.

The room had no windows, and was small and dingy. Candles hung in the air levitated by magic, to cast an eerie shadow on everything. She heard some music begin to play. (a/n: Hermione loves to dance. She can't sit still while there's music playing, so that explains this next part. Or maybe the music was charmed. Yeah, I like that. Charmed music it is.) It sounded middle eastern, but there was something about it that made Hermione feel compelled to dance. Right before she started, she noticed a man sitting in the corner. He wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to her. For some reason, this made her happy and angry at the same time. Happy that he was one less person to bother with her, and angry because he didn't seem to like her.

First she started swaying her hips in time with the music. Then she subtly stroked her thigh, keeping the swaying hips going. The music took hold of her. It must have been charmed, because Hermione had never even seen something like what she was doing now, much less done it before. The dance was more like she was having sex with herself than anything she could think of. It actually felt good, and the leather straps were free to move in. Everything was going sort of okay, (besides the fact that she felt very self conscious in straps and triangles) but then the platform started lowering. The men started jumping about, and calling claims to her as to whom got her first, second, and so on. Then someone shouted that they should just all have her at once. This proved popular. Through it all, Hermione was held by the charmed music. Until the music stopped.

The first man to touch her was a tall burly man who was probably in his late fifties. He reached out and grabbed the strap that attached the top to the bottom half of her costume, and yanked her down from the platform. She screamed as four more men grabbed her and started touching her in places no one but herself had touched before. Suddenly, her whole body was alive with feelings; pain, as the first man ripped away the upper half of the leather/canvas contraption, more pain as he and others started licking and biting her breasts and clawing them with their hands, anger at them for being so needy, and beneath it all, as all form of clothing was ripped away from her, a certain lustful wanting, a wild craze for the sex that was on everyone in the room's mind.

It scared her, this lust, for with each thrust came more pain, more lust. These men, they were huge, and she marveled that they fit inside her at all.

The man in her now looked young, not much older than Hermione herself. As he thrust himself into her again and again, his mouth found her breast, and he bit and licked, and rubbed with his hand her other one. Again she screamed, but this time in anticipation of the oncoming orgasm, which hit her like a bomb. Her hands shot out, her whole body could not contain all the lust that was burning her inside out. Then her body went limp. She could not move a muscle, could not here the grunts of pain from the man inside her as she shrank to an extremely small size (you'd be hard pressed to fit a pencil in her) while he stayed as big as ever, along with the thuds as men got hit in the head with rocks that were being thrown from the far corner by a man who, with the strength of his great will power, had kept his hands clean of rape, and perhaps murder. For he had no idea is she were dead or alive, so limp she had become.


	3. Chapter 3

Hauling all the men into a pile on the side took the dark haired man a good two hours, and during that time he refused to let himself look at the girl lying in the middle of the dimly lit room. He could see her naked outline, but no more. After moving the men and tying their hands and gagging them with their own clothes, he stood at the edge of the room, wanting to go see who it was, but dreading what he would see.

Slowly, the man crept to the center of the dark room. He could see her clearly now, each curve of her exposed body glistened with cold sweat. Her face was hidden with waves of soft dark blond hair, now soaked with sweat as well. Stooping, he did not reach out to remove the covering layer of hair. Had he really recognized that face, while she was dancing? The sweet curve of lips, the slight hesitation when the music started to play? Or was it all he mind going crazy from being trapped in a tiny cell for two years, digging a tunnel with a spoon? Slowly, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Those closed eyes, the slightly turned up nose, the sweetly curving lips—

"_Hermione!_" Harry Potter collapsed on to the floor, weeping, laughing, heartbroken, exhausted. He had found her, after thinking about her with every teaspoon of dirt he removed in those two years, thought about the look on her face when she realized he was not dead, but had come back for her. And now she was….Harry pulled himself up off the floor. He hadn't felt for a pulse. Maybe, maybe she was still alive..

"Please, Hermione. C'mon, please" he muttered like a madman, grasping her hand, and feeling with all his might—

"Ohmygodohmygod! Hermione you're, please wake up, you're alive,ohmygod!" Harry's voice was a raspy hiss .He was laughing, crying, pulling her still limp, still naked body into a hug, feeling her warmth, trying to make her wake up.

Harry sat there for an hour, holding Hermione. Waiting for her to wake up. As he adjusted his position, her eyes fluttered and opened. The man holding her looked down, and tears filled his eyes.

"Hermione, you're back." That voice, that face. She knew them to belong to only one. Harry Potter. Suddenly, Hermione knew what had happened; She had died, and now she was with Harry in the after world.

"Oh, Harry, you did die! And so did I! What are we to do? I can't be alive, because you are dead." Harry looked confused.

"Hermione, we're alive…" She stared. Harry was alive? And he had been there? That meant he must have been one of the men grabbing her. Realization dawned on her face, and she shoved away from him.

"You filth!" She screamed, "I hate you! How could you even think of doing that to any woman, but to me? How dare you even look at me!" She started crying. How _could_ he have done it? How could he have – raped – her?

Hermione collapsed into a heap on the dirty floor, sobbing. Her best friend. So desperate for a woman, he raped his own best friend.

Harry stared at her, completely taken aback. How could she think he would do that to her? His best friend?

"Hermione, how could you think that? I would never touch you like that, unless you asked! Do you think me a monster?" Of course, she hadn't seen him in almost three years, so who knows what she thought about him.

Hermione, still crying, looked up at him.

"You'd touch me if I asked you?" Harry mentally swore. Why had he had to let it slip like that? Now she thought him a man whore, and a monster to boot!

"That's not the point," He ignored the question, "The point is that I waited until most of the men were drunken on their own lust, and then I knocked them all out with stones, and gagged and tied them." Hermione understood; He was the dark man in the corner who ignored her dancing.

"You were the one who didn't watch me dance." It came out more like an accusation then she'd meant. Harry blushed slightly, the color showing bright on his pale undernourished skin.

"Well, I did see you're dance before the men got to you. Very, er, provocative." An embarrassed smile flitted over her face.

"Well, you see, I mean, I've never done that before. I just, I think it was the music…" Harry laughed a barking, hollow laugh.

"No sweat, 'Mione."

_A.N: Well folks, it seems that breaking my story up into three bits has made it seem a lot shorter than it did as a whole. I will try to find the time to update, but I will have to trash this comp soon, when my friend finishes re-formatting my new comp. Yes! I will finally have Windows XP, as apposed to the W. 98 I've been living with for the past seven years…._

_Later, -Toria_


	4. explainations

So it turns out that the people who kidnapped H and Hr are a mass terrorist group, and that the place they are in is the English base of it. It has no name, because names are the opening door to criticism. They have bases all over the world, one in USA, about ten in Europe, and many, many more in the middle east. They kidnapped Harry Potter because that was an act of terror in it's self. They did not send a ransom note, for that creates an opportunity to see the "softer" side of them. (the terrorists, not the ransomed). It is frightening when men randomly disappear, and that creates terror. They knew that Hermione was tight with Ron, now a Quiddtich champ, and Dumbledore. So they took her too. Sadly, the research was not completely done on their part, and they did not know the Hermione had been tight with Harry as well. So they put her in the "Dog house" with him. Tisk tisk.

So I hope that that's clear now, I'm still working on the plot in my head.

To** call me brit**: I don't think there will be any raping, not unless it is completely unavoidable. If possible, the bit in the second chapter was as close as it gets. Thanks for giving my story a shot, bad summary and all!

To **Endless Potential**: I hope this "mini chapter" explains you're Q,

To all the rest of you: Thank you sooooooo much for all the reviews! I didn't actually think that anyone would read this… blushes

I have a few other story's that I'm working on, but I haven't put them up yet. One Tamora P. (Alanna all the way!), and one Lotr, that is actually a script. Maybe I'll put them up too.

Later –Toria

p.s. I hope to be writing more of this story very, VERY soon, but might be delayed for a week or two, due to getting new comp, and it needs to be programmed and stuff…


	5. Chapter 4

. . . . . . . . . . ._from last chapter. . . . . . . _

"Well, I did see you're dance before the men got to you. Very, er, provocative." An embarrassed smile flitted over her face.

"Well, you see, I mean, I've never done that before. I just, I think it was the music…" Harry laughed a barking, hollow laugh.

"No sweat, 'Mione."

They sat in silence for a few seconds, and the Hermione said,

"Um, Harry? Can I have some clothes? It's getting kind of cold in here…"

Back at the Burrow, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Dumbledore, Professor Macgonigal, and the rest of the Weasleys gathered in the living room.

"Do you think this has anything to do with Harry's disappearance?" Ron's voice quavered a bit. He had now lost both his best friends to some unknown cause. Ginny put her arm around Ron. Dumbledore frowned.

"I am not entirely sure, but it seems likely."

Ron climbed up the numerous flights of stairs to his room. He felt deflated and empty, with no one to talk to about his feelings. For the past years Hermione had been there for him, but now she was gone too. He thought back to Graduation day . . . . . .

_Hermione ran at Rom, clutching a certificate in her hand. _

"_Ron! The Ministry of Magic has accepted me as the first Head of the Protection of Magical Creatures Department! The new Minister, Percy Weasely of course, invited me today! Your brother!"_

_Ron knew very well that Percy was Minister of Magic, and he had suspected that Hermione would get that position because Percy kept hinting that he was putting a newly graduated person in office whenever he came by the Burrow. _

"_Hermione, that's wonderful! I never doubted you would do something like that. You have to tell Harr-" Ron looked dumbstruck. It had been two years, and yet he still made reference to his best friend. "I- I mean you must tell Ginny. She'll be overjoyed." He finished lamely. _

_The flicker of light in Hermione's eyes was dampened. Of course she knew Harry was gone (she wouldn't think dead), but when people slipped like that the whole thing came crashing over her head like a wall crumbling in a storm. _

_Changing the subject, she said,_

"_Hey, look over there. It's Emily P. Why don't you go and talk to her? You've wanted to all year long, and this is your last chance."_

_Ron's head snapped up. _

"_NO, I can't talk to her. She'll think I'm just desperate on the last day of school She'll think I'm an idiot." He blinked._

"_No she won't!" Hermione shoved him towards a pretty girl with brown hair and shimmery blue eye shadow._

_Turning away, Hermione walked towards the Quidditch pitch. In the last two years Hermione had visited the pitch numerous times. It made her feel somehow closer to Harry. She made her way to the center of the field and lay down on the soft grass, staring up at the clouds._

_She fell asleep. A bright light shone in front of her. Three almost translucent figures stood around her. One was Cedric Diggory, who had died in his sixth year, one was Cho Chang, who had been killed in the last battle with Voldemort, and the last was Harry. Cho and Cedric moved around and whispered something to one another, and Harry sat down beside her. He reached out a hand that Hermione could see through, and gently brushed her hair. Or tried to. All Hermione felt was a light breeze rustle the shining lock of hair. A tear ran down his face. Then he reached down and started shaking her roughly and she screamed and was suddenly awake being stuffed into a bag and levitated. That was all she remembered until she woke up in a small badly lit room with a bed frame and box spring and a jug of dirty water._

. . . . . Ron sighed and wished that he could talk to Harry. Hermione was great, he loved her with a passion he was constantly forced to cover with brotherly love, but she wasn't a guy, a guy like Harry. Harry had understood Ron without even trying. Even though their situations in life were so different, Harry had known what it felt like to get hand-me-down clothes every Christmas, and to not get much food. Of course now he was probably – yes, he might as well accept it – dead. Ron squeezed his eyes shut to keep out the tears. Now he had lost Hermione too, he had no one. Now he felt untruthful for not telling her about his interest in her, and now it was too late. He would never hold her in his arms, never kiss her sweet soft lips, taste the sent that followed her everywhere. The tears finally could not be quenched and poured down his cheeks.

"Aw, shit." He should never have thought about her, or him. What if Harry had lived? He had been hot on Hermione for two years, even though he had liked Cho, and she was the main interest of fifth year. Would they (Harry and Hermione) have gotten together? He stopped thinking.

Harry and Hermione both decided that the clothes the gagged men were wearing were not good, so Harry gave her his shirt, and they scavenged and found the so called underwear hidden in a corner.

Now clothed, Hermione started to worrying that the men would come back and catch them.

"Harry, do you have a way to escape? Is there any way to get out? Can we get our wands back? Oh, Harry if we get caught, it'll all be for nothing!"

Harry stood up. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Instantly she silently screamed at herself for noticing something as trivial and silly as the way the light caught on his now bare chest. Quickly she looked away. He reached out his hand.

"Can I help you?" Hermione smiled a little.

"Still chivalrous, even now?" the shadow of a grin crossed his face, and for a split second they were back in school, with not a care in the world (besides Voldemort), and then it was over just like that.

Harry led Hermione to the corner he had been sitting in. A tunnel wove it's way down in darkness. Hermione gulped. She wasn't partial to small dark areas in general, and this wasn't the exception.

"Harry, I don't think I can do this… -"

Harry cut her off. "You have to. By the way, I didn't actually do all of this, I just dug through the wall and found this. There is a turn off to the room they keep the wands. We can go by there and get them."

Hermione saw a recklessness in Harry's eye that she had never seen before. For some reason she thought of Harry's deceased God father Sirius Black. In fact, now that she thought of it Harry looked a lot like Sirius; the long black matted hair, the hollow cheeks, Hermione was glad that his eyes at least were the same bright green, full of the earnest want to do good. What was she thinking? That Harry had gone mad? She brushed all those thoughts away.

"Will you go first?"

Harry seemed to relax. "Of course. Don't worry, Hermione. You are safe with me, I promise you that. I won't leave you for anything." Then he ducked in to the tunnel and crawled away. Hermione hurried after him, stuffing the hole with the large rock Harry had put next to the entrance. Everything went black, and all she could hear was Harry a little ways ahead of her.

The air was very damp, and cool enough to make the hair on the back of Hermione's neck stand up. They headed down, and the path twisted and curved. Hermione was reminded of the path under Hogwarts that led to the Candy Shop in Hogsmead. Then it sloped up and suddenly Harry stopped. Not being able to see, Hermione ran right in to his back.

"Oh!–" Harry slapped his hand over her mouth.

"You have to be quiet, or someone will catch us!" Harry kept his hand there a few seconds longer. Hermione noticed that his hand smelled really good. But his hand pulled away and he reached for the door in front of them.

It opened without a sound, as if it had been oiled recently, but there didn't seem to have any hinges. Harry turned his head to look at her.

"Hermione, can you wait here while I get the wands? I know where they are, and if I get caught you can still escape." Hermione ignored the last part and said,

"But you don't know what my wand looks like." Harry grinned that shadow of a grin again, this time it looked sad though.

"Of course I know what your wand looks like. How could I not? You are the only person I - I mean, my best friend, right?" Turning towards the room, Harry left without a word, closing the door behind him.

Sitting in the darkness Hermione tried not to think about all the horrible things that could happen to Harry if he got caught. Instead her mind drifted to the thoughts she kept having about how Harry looked amazing without a shirt on. Of course he might be thinking about her naked body, who knew? He had seen quite a bit of it.

Fifteen minutes later there was a fumbling at the door. Harry's head came through and then the rest of him all very fast. So fast that in his hurry to close the door he fell on top of Hermione. Gesturing apologies he crawled as fast as he could to the bend in the tunnel and waited for her to catch up. Sagging against the wall he let out a breath.

"I heard someone coming. They were having trouble with the key as I was getting in, that saved my life." His face was in shadows, but Hermione could tell that his lips were trembling. Reaching out through the darkness she lightly placed her hands on his face, cupping his cheeks in her palms. Sure enough, she felt a slight tremble around his mouth.

Touching Harry's face came as a surprise for Hermione. For some reason he hadn't grown a beard, and his face was still smooth as it had been when he was fifteen. She whispered,

"It's okay, Harry. You're okay, _we're_ okay. We escaped, and we have the wands. As long as we have them, we'll be fine." Harry nodded, and handed her wand over. Just feeling the smooth hard wood connect with her hand made everything feel better.

"Let's go to sleep, shall we?" he nodded.

Finding a comfortable spot was trouble though. Harry slid down to prop his head on one side of the tunnel and put his feet on the other side. Hermione gingerly rested her head on his stomach and lay perpendicular to Harry. He didn't seem to mind, so she settled down, and fell asleep almost instantly.

The damp air in the tunnel chilled Harry's bare chest. Shivering a bit, he lightly rested his hand on Hermione's warm back. As he did this, Harry marveled at her. She had been traumatized by a bunch of men old enough to be her father, then found by a man she now probably thought was a sex crazed creep. Of course she must not think that, or she wouldn't be here with him now. Maybe she was using him as a means to get out of there. But he wouldn't leave her. Even if that was what she really was doing. He would stay with her, like he promised, no matter what. He thought back to the last time he saw her . . . . . .

_Smoke was flying everywhere, getting in his eyes, his mouth. The drapes were on fire, but there were already people putting it out. A huge cloud of smoke blew into Harry's face, making him cough, but he didn't think about it. He felt much older than his fifteen years of age. The only thing he could think was that he had finally done it. He had destroyed Voldemort, and he would never come back, never hurt his friends again. This brought his friends into mind. _

_Cho had died killing Wormtail, and Ginny and Ron had been wounded killing Luscious Malfoy. Many more had died, and some were not going to be able to recover for years. _

_. . . . Hermione. Harry's head suddenly snapped up. Was she okay? The last time he saw her had been in the dungeons, where he told her to stay put, and not to move anywhere. He yelled over the explosions coming from above them not to try and fight, she had only just recovered from a major chest wound, and he couldn't stand to lose her. As he swept away to find Lord Voldemort she had shouted something at him, but he hadn't heard her. _

_Now he knew he had to find her. Ron was safe a St. Mungo's, but Hermione could be anywhere, she could be dying. Harry had become close friends with death that summer. So many people he knew had gone through the veil. He could not bear to lose Hermione too. _

_Harry ran all the way down to the dungeons. Bursting into the potions room he had left Hermione in, he was ready to fight for her life, but the room was empty. What had happened? He whipped out the Marauder's map (why hadn't he thought of it before?) and checked for Hermione's dot. In the Great Hall? He must have run right passed her. Swearing at his stupidity, he turned around and hurried back up the stairs. She was in the room which they had decided to use as a recovery station, where she might be wounded, or dying. For some reason Harry knew she was alive. He could feel it somehow._

_He had defeated Voldemort, and saved the world yet again. But he felt empty, like he had lost the purpose of life. For five years he had lived to kill Voldemort, and now that he was dead there was nothing to live for. An image of Ron, Ginny, Neville , Luna, and Hermione burst into his head. All five of his best friends, that was what he lived for. Not feeling much better, seeing as how one of those five might be dead Harry put on an extra burst of speed._

_Running into the Great Hall, Harry did a quick scan of the room. Where was she? Then he saw a head of bushy brown hair. She was sitting on a bed from the hospital wing, talking to Neville Longbottom. She had gotten into a fight, she was hurt. _

_Harry walked as fast as he could, without hurting anyone, to her bed. Hermione's arm was in a sling, and she had burn marks littering her smooth skin. Neville moved away quickly. _

"_Hermione," He fought to keep his voice low, "I told you to stay put, and to not fight." As he spoke his voice rose in volume, "So that you wouldn't get hurt. You didn't listen to me, and now you're hurt!" Hermione stared at him. _

"_Harry, you really thought I would just sit and twiddle my thumbs while you were out there possibly _dying_? And why do you think you can order me around anyway? I'm fifteen, just like you. I can handle just as much as you can, and I don't intend to let you make me do anything." Her face was red from anger, and her hands were shaking. She stood up, gingerly moving around the sling. Standing in front of Harry, she took a deep breath and said,_

"_I killed Bellatrix Lestrange. The one who killed Siri–" _

_Harry cut in, "I know who she killed." A wave of shock ran through him. He had felt sure he would be the one who would avenge his God father's death. And now Hermione had done it. But then he thought, Bellatrix is dead. She's dead, and he didn't have to deal with her._

_Harry looked at Hermione's eyes, which were filling with tears._

"_Oh, Hermione. Had you never killed one before?" She nodded, and a sob broke from her throat. "It hurts, doesn't it? Killing someone." Harry put his arms around her. "You think you hate the person, and then you kill them, and even though you still hate them, you feel like the worst person in the world." Hermione nodded into his arms. "Killing is not in our nature. Those who find so called "joy" in it are sick in the head." _

_They stood like that, swaying back and forth for awhile and then Hermione said, _

"_How many people have you killed, Harry?" He smiled a little sad smile. _

"_Two. Voldemort, and Draco Malfoy." He looked at her. She stepped away. _

"_Harry, you killed Draco?" A horrified look came onto her face. "But he and I – I mean, we were – he loved me." She pushed away from him._

_Harry was suddenly mad. How had Hermione not realized what Malfoy was? He had tried to kill Luna Lovegood, and Harry had only just saved her by hitting Malfoy with the Avada Kedavera curse. He had not meant to kill him, but the curse had come out of his mouth, and all the pent up hatred that Draco had caused Ron and Hermione had come out. _

"_Hermione," Harry yelled, "he tried to kill Luna! He was pure evil, tricking you into believing him that he loved you, that he had changed." Hermione glared at him, and cried at the same time. People were looking at then as though they were mental cases._

"_You evil, mean hearted monster! You were jealous of him, because he turned nice. And now he's d –dead." Sobbing, she said, "He tried to kill Luna? When?"_

_Harry sighed. "Last night, and that's why Luna's in St. Mungo's." Hermione swayed, and sat on the bed. Suddenly she shot back up._

"_YOU KILLED VOLDEMORT!" She shrieked. "HE'S GONE! HE'LL NEVER COME BACK? HARRY, YOU DID IT! OH MY GOD, YOU REALLY DID IT!" Her voice echoed through the castle._

_Everyone in the Hall stopped what they were doing. Silence filled it, and the rooms near it (Hermione can be pretty loud at times). Then, as if on a silent order, everyone cheered. Yelling, whooping, screaming their joy, and they started clapping in rhythm and yelling, "Potter Won! Potter Won! Potter Won!" _

_Harry got picked up and carried outside._

_That night Harry went on a walk alone. Sitting on a stone on the edge of the Forrest he rested his eyes. The next thing he knew he was stuck in a small box that had tiny air holes._

. . . . . That afternoon was the last time Harry saw Hermione.

(A/N) Hey! Sorry it took me so long to update, I've had a bit of writers block. Nothing to heavy, but I couldn't make myself write. I'm not sure that this bit of the story is as good as the first three chappies, please try not to be irritated. I hope this one is long enough!

Later, -Toria


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